Thankful
by zst4ever
Summary: Mello hates the holidays, especially Thanksgiving. What the hell does he have to be thankful for, anyway? Quite a lot, it turns out. Rated for language, some shonenai.
1. Prologue: Chocolate and Leather

**A/N This was just an urge. At any rate, the first (and very very short) chapter is just a prologue, written from Mello's point of view. I like holiday fics, yeah hehe. **

**Warnings:**

**If I owned Death Note, Matt, or Mello…why the hell would I be wasting my time writing this? I'd be…uh…busy. Heh.**

**Rated for language (it's Mello...he don't talk pretty,) and most likely shonenai. None in this chapter, so I'll warn you if it's coming up. Nothing too explicit though. **

**I'd love to know what you think so far :)**

I hate the holidays.

I hate the weather, I hate the ridiculous sales that everyone buys into, I hate the fake holiday cheer that SAYS "I love you" but MEANS "Buy me good shit this year or I'll make your life hell in January." It's all so fake and cheesy and altogether terrible. Why the fuck would I spend a hundred bucks buying someone a gift just to have them spend the same hundred to buy me one? "It's the thought that counts," my leather-clad ass. It's the money that counts, and I hate it.

I know what you're thinking. But it's not true. I'm not like the Grinch. Don't compare me to that green fuzzy-assed idiot. After all, it's not just Christmas I hate, even though that's one of the worst. Bunch of superficial crap that people pretend is okay cuz they say it's "religious." Yeah, right. I'll show _you_ religious, and it sure as hell doesn't involve jingling bells and ball-covered trees.

And then there's Halloween, with those jumped-up little kids running around begging for candy…look, just cuz you're dressed up as a witch with a pretty little black outfit and a pointy hat doesn't mean I have to give you my goddamn chocolate! "Trick-or-Treat"?! Riddle me this, you Salem wannabe. Why should I?

But one of the worst is Thanksgiving. I just don't get the point. What are we celebrating? Oh joy, some large number of years ago, the white man stole food from innocent Native Americans and gave them syphilis in return.

Yeah. Break out the pie, guys.

Besides, what are we giving thanks for? The world is going to hell, if we aren't there already. I should know. I'm barely twenty and my life is consumed by finding a murderer. I don't know who my parents are. I grew up being bested everyday by a goddamn marshmallow, and now there's a crazy psycho killer somewhere who can murder people once he sees their faces. As if we weren't already condemning the planet by filling it with smoke and trash, as if the streets aren't already running with homeless people we just can't help, as if there aren't wars slowing burning up every corner of the earth…now there's a Kira, who in apparently trying to end all that, is killing more people than any serial killer ever has.

The only thing I'll ever give thanks for is chocolate and leather.


	2. Holiday Spirit

**A/N I****f I owned Mello, Matt, or Death Note, we'd all be in a parallel universe in which there exists a Life Note, which could bring people back to life, and the guys who I KNOW no one wishes died (you know who I mean) would all be alive, kicking, smoking, eating candy, wearing leather and no socks….yeah you get it. The Life Note was not my idea.**

**Nothing too graphic (excluding some language) in this one.**

**That's not the point XX; ; The point is, I hope you enjoy this :)**

Matt loved the holidays. I don't get it, but I could see it in him. Someone who doesn't know him well probably couldn't see the difference in his behavior, but I guess when you know a guy for literally a lifetime, you pick up on some stuff. Like how he replaced his cigarette with a candy cane every time December 24th rolled its white self around. And…uh… how he was currently walking in the apartment with a giant dead bird.

"Matt…" I groaned from the couch. My laptop was heating up the leather on my lap in a very pleasurable way as I did some work on the fricken Kira case that was ruining – no, actually, that _was_ my life. "Why the fuck are you carrying a turkey? If you're getting tired of canned soup and pasta, you should have ordered Chinese or something."

He grinned back at me.

"No way in hell, dude. Not this time. The turkey's gotta defrost before Thursday." I'd say the grin lit up his face, but it didn't need to. His goggles were perched amid his snow-dusted hair, exposing his pale pink cheeks and shining eyes. The weirdo was actually _glowing._

I don't get him, I swear.

"Why do we have to bother with a turkey? There's only two of us, for Christ's sake, Matt, d'you think we can finish a whole damn bird? How much can you eat?! We're gonna get fat, you idiot." As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had just made myself into a huge hypocrite. Matt looked at me, eyebrows raised. Both of us looked to the three foot pile of chocolate wrappers beside me on the couch, then to my admittedly barely-twenty-five inch waist.

"For some freakish reason, weight and appetite don't seem to have that 'when one grows so does the other' effect on you," he chuckled through his cigarette. "You should be making the most out of that, instead of wasting it on chocolate!" Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"If I ever hear the words _waste_ and _chocolate_ escape that stupid smoke-filled mouth of yours again…" My hand shifted to the corner of the cushions which we both knew concealed a fully-loaded revolver. Matt laughed as he walked into the kitchen and set down the turkey.

"You're _going_ to have a happy Thanksgiving, Mello. Your first one ever." He strode back into our tiny living room, unbuttoning his vest and laying it on an armchair. He looked at me with his head tilted to the side for a second, a weird yet familiar look in his eye. It was the look he got whenever he was trying to figure out exactly how to maneuver a tricky move in Halo 3 or something.

"What the – hey!" The next thing I knew, he had sprung at me, clicked Control+S on the Kira case files, and slammed the laptop shut on the floor. This all took place within a matter of seconds, and it somehow ended up with Matt replacing the laptop below my stomach. "You have negative zero seconds to get off me," I growled up at him. Now he was pinning my wrists to the couch and grinning even more.

"No," he said briefly, and I could tell he meant it. I struggled against him, but the truth was, sitting around and eating chocolate didn't give me much of an advantage over his inhuman hand-eye coordination, despite his puny lung capacity. "And negative zero doesn't exist, Mel." Goddamn it, if my gun was in reach and he was ANYONE else…brains would be raining down in _my_ version of autumn's red. But he wasn't anyone else, and the gun was burrowed beneath the couch cushions. I took a deep breath.

"I know it can't just be my good looks," I scowled, blowing a few blonde strands out of my eye, "so why are you so determined on this?"

I was a little taken aback to see genuine confusion and compassion soften Matt's teasing face. It also kinda took my breath away – though I'd never admit it – how good he looked when he was all cold and pink and, well, on top of me.

"Look, every holiday season, you mope and whine and kick the Macy's Santas and eat chocolate bars while everyone else gets into the spirit." I couldn't deny that. "And every year I just watch you and don't do anything about it." He shook my wrists slightly, and I was about to kill him for it, but then I saw this stupid faraway look in his eyes. He was smiling again, and it was such an honest, child-like smile that I just couldn't bring myself to smack it off his face. "Maybe it's cuz you never had a real holiday, or a real Thanksgiving, for that matter! Well, you know what? Neither have I. But all that is about to change. Now I can actually make a Thanksgiving dinner and decorate the apartment, and in December I actually have the money to buy presents. So this year, I'm gonna."

We were very quiet for a few moments after this, as I stared up at his ecstatic expression, framed by the hair falling gracefully past his eyes. There was something else in that face. It kind of looked like…desperation?

And it dawned on me. Yeah, maybe this year he wanted me to have a great holiday season or whatever. But this was for him too. It was true; we never really had much of a Thanksgiving at Wammy's or anyplace else. He stuck by me…and I guess it's because of that that he hasn't been able to have much of anything "normal". So maybe I owe him one of these stupid holidays. Hell, the guy pretty much gave up everything to get wrapped up in this fucking insane world of Kiras and crime. It might be time to throw him a bone…or, in this case, a turkey leg.

"Matt."

"Yeah?"

"If I let you 'enjoy the holiday' and escape unscathed…will you get off me?"

His body relaxed from the tense position I hadn't been aware it was stuck in, and a devious gleam sparked in his eye. I knew that look – he was about to push his luck

"Will you help with the mashed potatoes?" He actually sounded hopeful! Eh…why not give him a break. Just this once.

I let my chin tilt into my chest in a nod. Matt flew off me, his smile morphing into a full-on beam.

"YES! Oh jeez, thank God we're gonna get to lighten up this place a bit!" He ran into the kitchen. "Aw man, there's so much to do! At least these yams come with instructions – hey Mello, what exactly is a yam?" Matt's voice echoed cheerily.

I sighed and pulled my laptop back into position. Tuesday, it read. Two more days til Thanksgiving.

What had I just gotten myself into?


	3. Maybe

**A/N Sorry…Matt seems really gay in this one. But uh…I suppose that's part of the point after all, isn't it hehe. Anyways, as you know, Death Note isn't mine – hope you enjoy this anyway!**

"Can we have pie?! Oh my God, please?"

"As long as I don't have to do anything about it, you can have whatever you want," I sighed.

I was starting to wonder why I ever went along with this. I hate the holidays so much, Thanksgiving in particular, that I felt like such a hypocrite for celebrating them. Matt just seemed so goddamn happy about it all. Dead Turkey Day loomed over me a mere two hours away.

"Then I'm gonna go out and get some pumpkin pie, okay? Be right back!" He was goggled, vested, and out the door before I could even nod. I leaned into the sofa cushions and refocused my eyes on my laptop.

Somehow, though, I could barely concentrate. Which never happens, especially from October to January, and sometimes I can work straight through Valentine's Day. There's just something about the holidays that makes me want to ignore them. Everyone else buys presents; I buy leather. Everyone else decorates trees; I decorate the couch with laptop-covered self. Everyone else smiles and laughs; I want to shoot them in the face.

So it's usually during this time of year that I get the most work done, and I _should _be getting work done now, since this is pretty much the most important case I've worked on. Ever.

But despite the disgusting sprinklings of snow littering the sidewalk and the horrifyingly perky passerby polluting the streets, I was completely distracted. I gazed at the criminal bios, the murder reports…and found it difficult to care. I'd never admit it to anyone, of course, but that kind of freaked me out. The only things I've ever cared about (besides Lindt, leather, and myself) are becoming the next L and defeating Near. Right now, though, that didn't appeal to me much.

And I have no idea why.

"I'm back!"

Matt wafted into the room. At least, that's what it smelled like. He brought with him a box of what I could only assume to be pumpkin pie, judging from the scent that tickled my nose.

"Great," I responded. Laptop. Case. Must focus.

"Aren't you gonna help with the mashed potatoes?" I could hear the frown in his voice. "You promised!" Aaaand now I could hear the whine. Fantastic. Now I had to go mash some idiotic potatoes like some kind of Martha fricken Stewart. But what really bothered me was that that didn't bother me. It actually seemed a little…fun.

I let my mouth turn up on one side in a half-smile and pulled the computer off me, heading to the kitchen.

"Okay, fine. Just tell me what to do."

"Well, first you peel these potatoes, then put them in this bowl and take this whisk, and I don't really know what to do after that…just whack them a few times, I'm sure it'll turn out good!"

He was grinning in that oddly insanely adorable way. He's such a little kid sometimes! I couldn't help but tease him about it. I tugged on a lock of his stray hair, too soft to hurt but too hard to make me seem like some kind of girl.

"You're such a freak, you know that?" I tousled his hair before taking the whisk and ducking the smack he aimed at me in return.

"You're just pissed cuz I gave you the easiest job and I get to baste the turkey!"

"Like I really want to stick a tube up some dead bird's ass!" I snorted.

He held up his hands in mock defeat and raised his eyebrows.

"Hey dude, you do whatever you want in your spare time…"

I growled at him and lunged, spurring a very brief yet potato-covered food fight.

Once we finally got back to work, we realized that fixing a Thanksgiving dinner took a hell of a long time. It was way past midnight when I put down the spatula and actually looked at the clock.

"Holy crap, Matt – we better go to bed!" I dried my hands off and made for the bedroom, but he lingered a bit longer.

"I'm just gonna clean up here a bit, kay?" He was looking at me thoughtfully again.

"Sure." I decided to ignore it and just walk away. But –

"How come you never liked celebrating the holidays before?"

I froze.

Good question.

"Especially Thanksgiving," Matt continued, "you never liked Thanksgiving. Why?"

It took me a long time to think of an answer, and I hate to admit that when I finally did, it wasn't a great one…thought it's 100 percent true.

"I guess I never had anything to give thanks for," I said softly. Matt nodded at this as if he understood, and maybe he did.

"But then…this year…" He hesitated a moment, as if he was scared of the answer. "You do?"

I looked at him straight in the eye now. His ragged breathing told me that my response had to be more than just "Yeah, now I'm thankful for life and shit, cuz it's all good," or something dumb like that. I knew what he wanted me to say but at the same time…I wasn't sure he wanted me to say it! And I wasn't sure how I felt at all. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I didn't even know what my own feelings were telling me as I stared at his flawless face.

An icy pit formed in my stomach with my last word of the night, an androgynous word that everyone either loves or hates. Right now, I hated it because it didn't tell me anything, and it didn't tell him anything.

"Maybe."

And I walked away.

**To Be Continued ASAP.**


	4. Why We Love the Holidays

I've heard during the holidays, the whole family puts aside their differences and just enjoys the togetherness. They laugh and don't bring up problems and eat and joke and just have fun. They forget about all their problems and bask in the purity of a night of happiness.

So I've heard.

I always thought it seemed pretty idiotic. You ignore your issues for one night, they don't just disappear. They're still there in the morning, and it's even worse because you're one day later to whenever you have to solve them. How on earth is disregarding them going to help?

Maybe that train of thought is why I'm always so stressed.

I know I'll always remember tonight, as idiotic and cheesy as it sounds. Because for the first time since….well, for the first time, I didn't think of Kira or murder or being the next L or Near or anything tonight. And I laughed, and smiled. REAL smiles too, not my fake sardonic ones that you see right before the bullet smashes into your eye socket. I actually had fun.

"Your mashed potatoes aren't half bad, you know," Matt commented, bringing my thoughts back to the table as we finished the dinner. I grinned and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why do you sound surprised? You were expecting me to poison you?" Truthfully, that joke wouldn't have been half as funny on any other day, since you really couldn't put poison past me.

"Nah," he said, scooping up another mouthful of the gravy soaked potatoes that I actually was quite proud of, "I just didn't think you could actually _cook._" I tried to look angry at this, but I couldn't quite muster an honest scowl. I was just too fucking happy!

"I can do anything I damn well want to, and don't you forget it!" I shot at him. He just laughed and nudged the yams towards me. We had discovered over the course of the meal that neither of us really liked them.

"Then can you eat another whole yam?" He was testing me, the bastard.

"Why yes I could," I said with my head held high, "but I don't want to. So I won't."

"Psh, you're just scared! Baby." He mockingly hid behind the turkey.

"If you call me a baby one more time, it'll be the last word you ever say!" I warned.

"Baby."

I wish I could say I lost it, I really do…but there was a warm pit bubbling in my stomach that told me how peaceful I was. All I could manage was to throw a balled-up napkin at him and mutter –

"Bastard."

He smirked at me. Damn, the food really _was_ delicious! We settled down, eating and laughing and insulting each other, and even though it was just two guys alone in a too-small apartment on Thanksgiving, it was a cozy atmosphere. We both liked each others company more, I think, then we'll ever let on. At least, I did. And –

Matt leaned back in his chair for a moment to gaze out the frost-covered window.

"You know why I think holidays are so cozy?"

What the fuck…is this guy in my head?! Keep your composure, Mello…

"Why?" I strained to keep my voice steady. At first I thought he was going to make some cheap gay joke or something, then I took a second look. His eyes were overcast with a dead serious haze. No…not a haze…a clarity.

"Outside, everything is cold and confusing," he said in an undertone. He was looking outside into the swirling snow, but he was looking inside too, I could tell. Inside of me, and him…there was definitely chaos raging in us. "But over the holidays, when you're with people you care about--" he avoided my eye – "everything seems to calm down, even if it's just for a few hours. You forget about everything else in the world. And though those hours may not be one hundred percent serene…they always seem to make you smile."

He looked at me and did just that. It was a smaller one that the thousand watt ones we had been flashing at each other all night, but it was a million times more sincere. I felt my heart wrench itself in my chest. Why did he have to bring this up? Yeah, I was content and peaceful and whatever. Til now. Now the turmoil was twisting me up more than ever, and it wasn't even about Kira. I had never liked the holidays before because – I knew it now – I never had had anyone to share them with. But I can never tell him that. I just can't. I'm a loner; I don't need anyone or anything. Never have, never will. Except now I know why I was never happy when I was a loner…what good is success if you celebrate alone? Ah, fuck that – how do you get through failure if you have no one to help you through it?

Dammit.

Now I know exactly how to make myself happy. And it involves putting aside my goddamn pride and appreciating the fact that I need a friend. What it doesn't involve is getting up from the table, sticking my plate in the sink, and turning my back on the only person who ever cared about me.

So why is that exactly what I did?

"Happy Thanksgiving, Matt. I'll see you in the morning."

I didn't turn around. I could feel his crestfallen face boring into me as I walked away, and a suspicious burning in the corners of my eyes that threatened to spill over if I looked back at him. All the good emotions that had been piling up throughout the night had been replaced by self-hatred and complete confusion.

I glanced at the clock. 9:45…the night had ended way too quickly. It shouldn't even be over, but I just couldn't bring myself to face him. Or myself, for that matter.

There's the problem with putting off your problems – it doesn't solve anything.

Yet that's what I had been doing all evening, and it worked so well. I guess there's no harm in doing it just a bit longer.

So ignoring the hot tear sliding down my cheek and the utter silence from the other room, I turned off the light.

**Next chapter is most likely the last. I don't own anything. Hope you enjoyed this…though it was written at 12:30 in the morning!**


	5. Something To Be Thankful For

**A/N LAST CHAPTER! I own nothing. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**You may say Mello is OOC. I may say nooo he's just actually sentimental on the inside…You may say the ending is lame/cheesy. I may say sorrysorrysorry I suppose I just got less creative..**

It's not very satisfying to punch a pillow, I've found. I'd much rather be punching myself, but…I just don't want to do that. I had to content myself by burrowing my face in the cushions and scrunching up my face.

This is a big part of why I hate this goddamn holidays. They make you come to terms with how you really feel and what you really want and all that shit. Jeez, who needs that in their lives?!

It had only been a few minutes, but I already missed the peace of our dinner. Something about being with Matt honestly made me forget the giant black hole that is my life. And now I feel like I'm drowning in it, being pushed and pulled and torn apart by looming unknown futures, faceless murderers, and the part of me that knows how to make the pain go away but will never accept it…

I groaned and rolled over onto my chest. It should have been quiet inside the darkened bedroom. The chilly Thanksgiving night had a different idea, though. Tiny flurries of snow thrashed themselves against the window while the wind screamed at me, keeping me awake with its howling taunts, not letting me sleep.

Not that I could have anyways, probably. My mind was the definition of chaos, swirling with questions and images and the one answer that I knew I had to arrive at sooner or later.

Somehow, though, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. And that made me hate myself more than ever, since it meant I was too weak to even be honest with my own goddamn feelings. I HATE being weak. Of course, just when this thought swam to the top of my consciousness, another fucking tear swam down my face.

I hate this so much. Everything I'm thinking just proves the point that I need him to stay sane. I clearly can't manage that on my own. But I can't, I just can't bring myself to –

The door creaked opened timidly.

"You awake?"

I froze. Oh well this was just perfect. My mind entered full-blown hyperdrive, as well as my heart which seemed to be beating itself literally out of my chest. What was he doing here? Despite the fact that we shared this bedroom, of course.

"Yeah!" Fuck. My voice needed to learn that there was a difference between a normal tone and a gay oh-my-god-totally one.

He didn't turn on the light. I think he knew that I had been…you know….the c word. The one that ends with rying? Ugh. I guess it was kind of good that he figured it out, since it allowed me to wipe my eyes on the pretext of pulling up the blanket. I felt his silhouette sit on my bed.

"You okay?" He asked now. I would have laughed out loud, since I was basically the opposite of "okay," but it really wasn't that funny at the moment.

"Yeah," I responded, quietly this time. He turned to face me, and I cursed the fact that it wasn't dark enough in the room to obliterate his piercing eyes completely. They saw right through me, I could tell. There was a long pause with his hand on my blanket-covered (and still leather-covered…I hadn't bothered to pull on sweats or anything) knee.

"It's okay, you know." Matt's voice was low and rough, but I could tell he was forcing himself what he was saying. "You don't owe me anything." Like an idiot, I just kept quiet and stared at his figure, his lips moving ever so slightly as he talked. "So I just came in here to say, that no matter how you feel…I really am thankful to have you in my life, Mello. I don't know what I'd have without you. Honestly," he chuckled, "life with you may be short, but I know I'll enjoy every poisoned second of it."

Those last few sentences yanked me to my breaking point.

I gave in and let the words tumble out of my mouth while letting my hands tangle themselves in his hair and his collar.

"Holy fuck, Matt…I hope you know that if it wasn't for you, I'd probably be in a goddamn mental institution by now…" Another tear slid down my cheek in – desperation? relief? but I didn't have to wipe it away, I felt thin and steady fingers wipe it for me. "I know I don't say it enough, or ever at all, but you can't imagine how much I actually appreciate you. You're the only person who cared to make me realize exactly why I hate the holidays so much…and change my opinion about them." I took a deep breath. "You're the only person who gave me something to give thanks for."

Wow. I really hope I wasn't blushing. Then again, I really didn't care. Matt's face was grinning at me from what couldn't be more than a few inches away, and that's all that mattered.

"And you know that if you tell anyone what I just said, I'll shoot you in the foot, right?" I added. Just like I knew only he would, Matt let out a laugh and leaned his forehead on mine.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he whispered.

"Happy Thanksgiving." And with his eyes smiling at mine and his hands pressing into the small of my back…I knew that for the first time in my life, I really meant it. His warm breath ghosted over my tearstained face, sending spices left over from the pie into my senses.

I can't wait for Christmas.

**END**

**Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!**


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